


Transient Effects

by robocryptid



Series: Scalpel or Bullet 'verse [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: (in this part of the series anyway - the whole series does have a happy ending), Anal Sex, Asphyxiation, Blackwatch Jesse McCree, Breathplay, Choking, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Hair-pulling, Light Angst, M/M, Off-screen/Non-explicit Kink Negotiation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Scion Hanzo Shimada, Unresolved Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 14:48:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20427713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robocryptid/pseuds/robocryptid
Summary: Several weeks into their arrangement, Shimada suggests something different. Jesse's just enough of a thrill-seeker to take him up on it.





	Transient Effects

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Since I am sometimes asked: you have my blanket permission to podfic, translate or remix my stuff, make fan art, make fanmixes, etc. -- basically anything that qualifies as transformative works! You don't have to ask me. The only thing I do ask is that you share it with me, because I wanna see/hear/read it! 
> 
> What you do not have permission to do is wholesale copy and repost my fic to a different platform, such as a third-party app that profits from free fan labor. If you are reading this on an app like that, I assure you AO3's website on mobile is perfectly robust, allows downloads of fics for offline reading, has a [dark mode skin](https://archiveofourown.org/skins/929), and isn't trying to scam you by offering premium services that change nothing.#
> 
> \--
> 
> I didn't expect to return to this 'verse, and yet, here we are! This is technically a PWP and can be read without the rest of the series, but if you want, this takes place after [Scalpel or Bullet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14251671) and [Three Offers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14292534), but before [Just Deserts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14654844). All are smut with almost zero plot. The last one is smut and feelings. 
> 
> In Just Deserts, Jesse has the following flashback: _there’s the unsettling, untimely spike of lust that comes with the visceral sense memory of his own belt looped around his neck and a spectacular view of Hanamura’s skyline while this guy fucked him_. This fic is Very That.
> 
> [YourAverageJoke](https://www.twitter.com/youraveragejoke) drew some awesome NSFW fanart for this fic!! You can find it [here on their NSFW account](https://twitter.com/YourNaughtyJoke/status/1167173776229982211?s=20)!

#

Shimada’s in a _ mood _ tonight. Prowling the hotel room like a predator who’s lost his prey. He’s in a suit like always, but this one’s not so pristine. There’s a tiny fleck of rusty red-brown on the very end of one crisp white sleeve.

He’s not usually sloppy. Jesse thinks something had to have gone wrong, but he doesn’t ask about it. He’s taking enough risk meeting Shimada in the first place. No sense pissing him off. 

Instead he acts like he doesn’t see the agitation at all. Flops into an overstuffed chair with a glass of whiskey and kicks his feet up on the tiny desk the hotel suite provides, ready to wait out the fit — or capitalize on it. 

When Shimada inevitably gives him one of his irritable, snooty looks, Jesse winks. 

“Do they teach you no manners in your organization, agent?” 

“They tried. Didn’t take.” Shimada might go on looking annoyed, but Jesse knows he likes it. Likes his big American with bad manners and a strong will. It’s a little bit stereotype, a little bit who Jesse really is. He’s more than happy to lean into the persona if it means getting his dick wet. At least Shimada never treats Jesse like he’s stupid; he’s too clever to buy that act. “You offerin’ to put me in my place?”

That one does the trick. Shimada’s cruel mask breaks with his laugh. “I have tried.” He strokes a finger along Jesse’s jaw, mouth twisting into a smirk. “It didn’t take.”

“I can pretend real hard for you if that’s what you need.” Jesse sets his drink down and does drop his feet from the desk then, but it’s not out of manners. It’s just to get into a better position to guide Shimada to straddle him. Shimada doesn’t let whatever’s got him all twisted up stop him from sinking down. Jesse digs his fingers into the meat of Shimada’s thighs before he flattens his palms and slides up toward his ass. 

He rubs and kneads, relishing the feel of that spectacular ass in his hands, and Shimada sighs and rocks closer to Jesse. He likes Shimada’s weight on him, has gotten used to it after a few of these meetings. Shimada’s broad across the shoulders and chest, a fine mix of truly useful and just plain pretty muscle, so it’s not like he looks all that small, but he’s still heavier than Jesse ever thinks he’ll be. 

“You lookin’ for a distraction, darlin’?” It’s a stupid question — Shimada doesn’t call him for any reason but that one — but it fills the silence. 

“Obviously.” His tone says he too thinks it’s a dumb question, but the word gets tight at the end anyway as he tips his head up to make room for Jesse’s mouth at his throat. 

“What’s got you so wound up, sugar?” Jesse asks between one wet, sucking kiss and the next. 

A hand seizes him by the hair, and right beside the usual shuddery sensation is a spike of adrenaline. Shimada’s dangerous, and now he’s displeased, and Jesse is fucked up enough that it makes his dick twitch. 

Shimada adjusts so he can look down his nose at Jesse. “Are you asking for _ them _?” he asks, ice cold. 

This is testy even for Shimada. Whatever he’s preoccupied with has gotten under his skin something fierce then. Overwatch doesn’t usually come up, not since Shimada identified him. Shimada refused to cooperate, and Gabe has Jesse looking for other avenues to get their intel. This is all for fun now. No conflict of interest, and no reason for Jesse to go digging for anything Shimada won’t give up anyway. 

He doesn’t know how to explain that in a way that’ll convince a man with every reason to be paranoid. He settles on getting testy right back. “I’m askin’ because it was politer than askin’ whether you need me to pull that stick from your ass before I fuck you.” 

Shimada stares down at him like he’s not sure whether to be mad or amused or maybe turned on. That part hasn’t changed since the first time. He likes when Jesse’s belligerent. From what he’s observed and what little Shimada’s bothered to share, everybody else in his life’s an underling or vying for power over him. Nobody else pushes back unless they’re trying to do him harm. 

Jesse gets away with saying shit that’d get most folks killed. 

The look Shimada gets when he’s trying to figure out what to make of Jesse is one of those quirks that Jesse finds cute. One of the most dangerous men in all of Japan, with an untold number of other dangerous folks at his command, and sometimes he looks like that: lips not quite pursed, the bottom one pushed out more than the top, wetter and plusher than usual. It’s the look he gets when he’s thinking over something not-too-serious, but it looks a little like he’s pouting. Lord knows Jesse’s found weirder shit endearing, so he tries not to ruin it by looking too amused. 

“So crass,” Shimada says after a moment. His tone makes it hard to say if he’s still displeased, but Shimada’s always been down to fuck whether he’s annoyed or laughing, and Jesse doubts this time’s any different. 

“You like it.” 

The fingers in his hair aren’t so tough now. Now they’re stroking, sending that shivery tingle along Jesse’s scalp and down his spine. “Sometimes.” His dark eyes narrow, searching. “And if I want something different this time?”

“Depends on how different, I guess, but you know I like an adventure.”

Shimada’s mouth twitches into a pleased smirk. “I want to fuck you.”

Jesse’s not opposed to the idea by any means. It’s just that Shimada’s always seemed to get off on the way they’ve _ been _doing this, so it still comes as a surprise. He knows, too, that there’s more to it than that. There’s gotta be. There always is with Shimada. “Yeah?” 

Shimada’s fingers drop to Jesse’s waist. “I want you on your knees,” he says as he jerks Jesse’s belt free from his jeans. There doesn’t seem to be any doubt in Shimada’s mind that Jesse will do what he wants. It’s almost insulting, except that at least here, in this room, it’s totally true, even if Jesse still makes him work for it sometimes. He can feel the brush of lips against his as Shimada says, “I want you to beg.”

Jesse laughs suddenly. He can’t help it. This is exactly the type he would’ve _ thought _Shimada was gonna be, and exactly who he usually isn’t. He never really wants Jesse at his mercy; he wants Jesse to push back, to get fed up with his shit and pin him down and fuck him. Something about the edge in Shimada’s voice, the gleam in his eye, says this time isn’t gonna be like the others. 

Jesse tips his head back so he can see him better, and also because he wants to know if Shimada will follow. He doesn’t. “Never begged for anything before. What’re you gonna do to make me?”

Shimada gives him a sharp-edged smile and settles Jesse’s belt along the back of his neck, tugging each end until it’s lying taut against Jesse’s skin. “I have a few ideas.”

His brain nearly short circuits at that, and Shimada’s _ sincere _, not just goading Jesse into fighting back. He has to wet his lips before he can ask, “You tryin’ to put me on a leash, honey?”

“Only temporarily,” Shimada says as he starts in on Jesse’s buttons. “I am well aware of the futility of trying for more.” The edge in his voice is back. Jesse doesn’t know much about the internal politics of the family, but he suspects Shimada’s life doesn’t involve a lot of close, trusting relationships. He was salty about Blackwatch tonight too, and Jesse thought it was his paranoia, but now he wonders if it’s a question of loyalties. If he _ would _put Jesse on a leash if it meant being able to have someone fully in his corner.

It’s not often Jesse finds it in himself to empathize with someone rich and corrupt, but if anyone is gonna make that happen, here he is. “Darlin’—”

“You’re not the type to let anyone own you, are you? It wouldn’t be any fun if you were.” Shimada’s smirking again, and it’s like the moment never happened. 

Jesse takes his cue. Prying’s never gotten him anywhere anyway. “Gotta keep you on your toes. You’d get sick of me if I made it too easy.”

“True. But tonight, you should make it easy.”

“Mm, guess I can play along. What are you after this time?”

Shimada tells him, and Jesse agrees to his terms with a thrill thrumming in his veins, gives Shimada a safeword just in case, because even Jesse has limits to his recklessness. Then Shimada rewards his cooperation with a smile followed by his tongue down Jesse’s throat.

A phone call interrupts them, and Shimada sneers at the screen of his phone before he answers it. He stalks the room again while he talks, and Jesse gets up to look outside.

The view really is something else. The room’s floor-to-ceiling windows make it hard not to notice. This high up, the skyline sprawls, glittering and neon. Patches of dimmer, warmer light mark out the more traditional buildings, the temples and historical sites, and high on a hillside, the Shimada family home. 

Jesse’s never been, but he thinks it’s pretty from the outside. 

Shimada says one last curt thing in his own tongue, then he makes a disgusted noise and his phone clatters against the desk. 

“Take off your clothes,” Shimada commands, and Jesse peeks back over his shoulder with a smirk, but he doesn’t argue. Doesn’t even finish turning around, just goes back to admiring the view as he pulls off his shirt. 

He tosses it to the floor and starts in on his pants, still half undone from fooling around before. 

He knows Shimada’s approaching because he’s watching his reflection, but it still somehow surprises him to feel hands on his skin. Shimada’s mapping out his shoulders before Jesse can even finish shucking off his underwear, and it’s awkward but he doesn’t really mind. It’s always been flattering to have so much of Shimada’s attention. 

The hands at his shoulders move down and around to skim his ribs and obliques and down to his hips. The touch is possessive; Jesse sometimes pets his gun this way. The thought doesn’t stop the way he shudders, goosebumps racing down his arms when Shimada kisses the nape of his neck. 

A calloused hand closes around his cock, and Jesse braces a hand against the window. Then the son of a bitch bites down where Jesse’s shoulder meets his neck, sending a jerk through his whole body. 

“Get on the bed,” Shimada growls near his ear. “On your knees.” Normally this is where Jesse comes back at him, sasses him a little or turns the tables, but tonight he agreed to play nice, so he does as he’s told. 

As Shimada finishes undressing himself, he looks Jesse over, the same possessive appreciation in his stare as in his hands. Then he’s on the bed and slicking up his fingers. No more preamble then. 

He nudges Jesse down to hands and knees, and then he’s working his fingers inside. Jesse gasps and hunches forward, only to arch his back again when Shimada grabs his hair and doesn’t let go. 

It feels stupidly good, makes him wonder why it’s been so long since he’s done this. He eggs Shimada on, rocking back onto his fingers until sparks shoot up his spine. 

“That all you got?” Jesse asks, just to remind him that Jesse’s patience and his good behavior only stretch so far. 

Shimada clucks his tongue, but he sounds amused when he says, “And here I was thinking about what a pleasure your silence was.”

Jesse almost wants to laugh, but Shimada’s fingers crook and then Jesse’s panting and shuffling his knees wider instead. He digs his fingers into the sheets, and the fabric clings strangely to his sweaty hands. He wants to bow his head too, tip his hips up and bury his face in the bed, but Shimada’s still got that grip on his hair, so he stares out at the glittering skyline instead. 

The fist in his hair stays even as Shimada withdraws his fingers, lines up, eases his cock in. It’s slow but merciless, stretching him open wide, Shimada’s lube-sticky fingers petting over his hip and tailbone. Possessive again, like he can _ own _Jesse. It’s hotter than any single touch has any right to be.

Shimada’s hipbones finally settle against his ass, and Jesse feels his body squeeze reflexively, which results in a little twitch from Shimada. Fingers tighten at Jesse’s hip and they pull, coax Jesse into moving, fucking himself back on that cock. 

Once Shimada seems satisfied that Jesse’s not just gonna lie there and take it, he finally moves too, settles first into the rhythm Jesse set then pushes them both to go faster, the snap of his hips and the hand on Jesse guiding them. The drag of his cock is so good Jesse’s mouth’s gone dry from gasping, from panting out curses. Shimada’s fist is still in his hair, but the grip has loosened and he’s petting and scratching now, sending a wash of tingles down Jesse’s spine. 

It’s so much, and Jesse feels like a mess, starting to lose his ability to keep up because all he wants to do is tilt his hips higher and go still so Shimada can fuck him however he wants. Every time he gets too overwhelmed to move, Shimada’s hand is there to jerk Jesse’s hips back into his, forcing him to participate again.

Shimada finally lets go of his hair, and Jesse does what he’s been wanting to do: presses his sweaty forehead against the bed, fingers clawing into the sheets. He might be drooling a little, and he can’t bring himself to care because Shimada’s working him over like he knows exactly what Jesse wants even before Jesse does.

Then Shimada’s thrusts turn slow and uneven, distracted while he bends and twists to reach for something before he drapes himself along Jesse’s back. “You know what comes next. You promised to beg,” Shimada says.

Normally Jesse’d argue with him or push back, give him a challenge, but right now all he can think about is how much he wants to get back to Shimada fucking him deep and hard, not this slow, lazy thing that torments more than it satisfies. “Please,” he mumbles into the sheets.

There’s a hand in his hair once more, yanking his head back. “I didn’t hear you.”

“_ Please _,” Jesse says again, no hesitation, then he repeats it over and over without an ounce of shame.

Shimada laughs above him and the sound goes skittering along his nerves. Then he feels it, the strip of leather across the hollow of his throat registering only milliseconds before Shimada pulls and the belt cinches tighter around his neck. Jesse agreed to it, but he startles anyway, fingers digging under it more out of instinct than fear. 

Maybe he _ should _be afraid, he thinks much, much too late. Shimada’s dangerous, no matter how much he likes Jesse’s dick or any other part of him, and Jesse hopped willingly — stupidly — into this without a second thought. 

Then Shimada speeds up again, hips slapping hard against the meat of Jesse’s ass, thick cock spearing into him at a relentless pace, and Jesse can barely think straight any more. He can’t hold himself up one-handed, keeps getting shoved forward until he lets go of the belt to balance himself again. Shimada’s already fucking him hard enough that Jesse thinks he could feel that cock in his throat, but then the belt tightens in Shimada’s fist and Jesse thinks he might instead be choking on his own tongue as he gasps.

He’s breathing in short, shallow little sips of air, and it’s never quite enough. His head spins and his limbs start to feel weightless and too heavy all at once, and all that seems to exist is the merciless slide of Shimada’s cock inside him, magnified by Jesse’s inability to focus on anything else at all. The city in front of him blurs, its lights somehow brighter and more diffuse. 

He trembles and shivers as he tries to fuck back against Shimada, but he can feel himself going sluggish and clumsy. It’s too much, his attention scattered and broken except the pinpoint of Shimada’s cock, and that feels like so much _ more _than it did before, and Jesse feels the static in his limbs before it takes over his brain too.

Then the pressure around his neck loosens and he comes with a sob that hardly makes a sound, his head spinning and body shaking. He sags down onto his elbows, gulping down air now that he can, and Shimada pulls out and braces himself over Jesse’s body, panting above him until he curses and his come splashes over Jesse’s ass and lower back. Marking him again. 

“Jesus,” Jesse mutters once his brain’s halfway online again. He pulls the belt off himself then finally drops onto his stomach as soon as Shimada rolls away from him. He doesn’t want to move from exactly where he is. 

Shimada’s nice enough to clean him up after, and he offers Jesse one of his expensive cigarettes. Jesse simply pushes up onto his elbows to smoke it, still staring out at the city. It’s the nice thing about meeting in hotels, he thinks; he doesn’t have to give a shit if any ashes singe the sheets, and Shimada’s too rich and scary for them to come after him for ignoring all the glaringly obvious No Smoking signs.

Shimada sits beside him, his hand in Jesse’s hair again, and that’s nice too now that he’s petting instead of pulling. Fingers soothe through the strands then trail down between his shoulder blades, tracing the shape of his back. It’s not sweet, really, still just another way he tries to assert some kinda ownership, but it’s grounding after all that and feels good enough that Jesse doesn’t care.

“How’d we go so long without tryin’ that?” Jesse wonders aloud.

Shimada gives him a dry laugh. “You have a very nice cock. It’d be a shame to let it go to waste.”

Jesse snorts, and a quiet falls over them. He finishes his cigarette and drops it into the tumbler Shimada brought him for an ashtray. He might doze after that, or he might just close his eyes for a few seconds; it’s hard to tell. But Shimada eventually breaks their silence.

“I could pay you,” he says.

“That good, huh?”

When Shimada doesn’t answer right away, Jesse’s laugh dies down and he shifts to look at him. Shimada’s staring out the window, and his face is deadly serious. “Not for that. You could work for me. As security.” 

“You got two armed guys you pay to wait around while we fuck, and two more backup lurkin’ on the street like they think I won’t notice ’em.” Shimada smirks at that. “You really need more than that?”

“I need—” Shimada cuts himself off, and now he’s glaring out at the view like the city itself has wronged him. He never fills that part in, and Jesse figures he can’t. 

It’s not hard to piece together anyway, not after their weird conversation earlier. “You’re lookin’ for someone you know works only for you.” Shimada doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t have to. “You know that’s not me. Can’t be.” Not as long as Jesse’s got any loyalty to Overwatch.

Shimada swallows, jaw clenched tight. Then his face becomes a mask, a wry smile painted on. “I thought you would prefer to have a job offer over a proposition to make you a kept man.” Jesse doesn’t know what to say to that, so he says nothing at all. “I assure you, you would make more than you make now.”

Jesse grunts and takes another of his cigarettes. “Ain’t about the money.” And it’s not. Jesse still doesn’t have his head on totally straight and he knows it, but he also knows working for Blackwatch is putting more good in the world than he used to. Certainly more good than he’d get to do working for a yakuza family. 

“I know,” Shimada says. He doesn’t sound resigned. He doesn’t sound like anything. “Forget it.”

Jesse sucks on his teeth. Somehow he knows he won’t be invited back. Shimada’s private number’s gonna change. Nobody but Jesse tells Shimada no. That used to be a good thing, but now that he’s said it about something Shimada has some investment in, there’s a wall between them that’s never coming back down.

He finishes this cigarette and kisses the taste of ashes out of Shimada’s mouth. They don’t talk about anything else, just make out for a while until Shimada’s horny enough again to suck Jesse’s dick. 

In the morning, Shimada’s gone, and Jesse’s got a message from Reyes telling him it’s time to ship out again anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> I did my best with the tagging, here, but if I missed anything, you are always welcome to let me know!
> 
> Scion Hanzo continues to murder me a year later, btw.
> 
> [YourAverageJoke](https://www.twitter.com/youraveragejoke) drew some awesome NSFW fanart for this fic!! You can find it [here on their NSFW account](https://twitter.com/YourNaughtyJoke/status/1167173776229982211?s=20)!


End file.
